Shepherd's Boy
The scent of cars wheezed by as vehicles of different kinds and sizes passed them in an impasse. The day was bright, quite sunny but it was laced with the same almost bitter and uninteresting tone as most days were. Everything felt the same, everything felt like it was on a perpetual loop, the kind that a small child would experience when the rerun of their favorite show would come by, with them asking what was next.
At least that's what it would feel if the boy standing next to his father at that corner of the street could articulate the words and thoughts that circled in his headspace. A small frown was on his face as he periodically squeezed the palm of his dad, waiting with some benign, minuscule anticipation over the bus that they were supposed to meet any minute by now. Impatience was already clouding his judgment as his frown worsened…
It was not even helped by the fact that another costumed hero whizzed by with whatever quirk or gadget they had in their arsenal propelled them in the air while the people around them cheered him by.
The boy grumbled, visibly unimpressed as he wanted to look away.
"What's the matter son?" he heard his father say.
"Nothing." He immediately intoned, not in a harsh way, but it was enough that his father shook his head, albeit with a small tired smile.
"You know, as much as you say you don't care about the job in itself or the people that walk around in the colorful tights, you do realize your old man is part of them right?"
The boy looked upwards at his father. "But you and Mom rarely get into the typical stuff I see on tv."
A small giggle could be heard from his father as the boy felt his own palm being squeezed by his father's.
"Yeah, but you have to understand son that despite all of the showbiz, personalities, and names, what we do is actually helpful to the people around us. At the end of the day, any decent hero knows that fame, money, and all of the things attached to this job are second only to the actual service that we do to the public." The boy sees his father's own smile widen as he looks up at him, his mood turning better as the sun above seemingly shines upon his father, like how any boy in his age would idolize some other costumed hero on the tv.
"Me and your mom? We're not as popular as some other co-workers in our branch are, but even then, we don't really mind things like that. What's more important is actually doing the service needed with the power granted to us in full. In this case, helping people in any shape or form."
The boy's frown evaporated somewhat as he nodded at his father meekly. "B-But you and Mom aren't like the others, it's like most of what my classmates idolize is just the heroes beating down the villains."
He once again heard his father chuckle. "Helping people comes in different forms son, your mom and dad just don't focus on that aspect of the job, but we still could if needed."
"A-Alright." The boy says as the feeling of warmth and elation filled his heart. His dad was right.
He believed his dad.
"Even then, I believe that if the situation needed it, it would be stupid not to help and sometimes if it means punching people in the face we gotta do it." His father said as he made a little demo with the fist on his other arm doing a punching motion.
Instantly his smile wavered and turned into a slight frown. He still could not understand why heroism involved fighting people.
"I know that face…" he heard his dad say as he felt the hand that he held on to move towards his shoulder with an empathetic and understanding squeeze. "I know you're worried kiddo."
"Me and your mom feel the same, but in some way, you still have to trust us. We're not All Might, but we damn sure are motivated to always get back to you back at home, regardless of anything that happens."
"You mean it?"
The sun behind his father's face supposedly turned brighter. "I do."
He smiled back with the trust in his heart renewed just as the bus pulled over behind him and had its door open. He was slightly disappointed, earlier he was impatient to just get the day over with, but like always his dad and his mom made his day brighter, more hopeful.
"I'll pick you up at school later kiddo. Be safe." His dad said as he hugged him.
Reciprocating the embrace, he mumbled back in affirmation as he boarded the bus after and watched through the window as his father waved outside.
He trusted them to be safe. There was nothing to worry about.
His mom and dad didn't do much fighting.
Clenching his hands together into a fist, he sighed to relax.
Things would go fine today…
"Have you seen that new All Might video? It was so cool that he just beat the villain in one punch!"
"Yeah! Did you see how strong it was? M-My dad said the clouds were whooshed away like the wind!"
The pair of cheerful voices continued on as they got consumed in their own fanfare. Listening close by, a boy merely frowned as the constant raving of the hero All Might just continued to bother and annoy him as the seconds passed by.
Taking another bite out of the bento that was made to him by his mother, he continued to ignore the two as the usual cycle of things in the lunch break happened in their classroom. His classmates always talking about heroes, their favorite tv shows, and their quirks just made everything so predictable that oftentimes, he would predict and tell exactly what they would say or talk about next.
He grumbled as he swallowed the last bits of the bento he was eating, only then noticing that the pair that was talking earlier had asked him a question.
"Hm?"
"We were asking what you thought about that new All Might vid Izumi!"
Immediately he was able to conjure a glare. "I don't care."
"Why not? It's All Might of all things! Surely you like him too right?" the other boy said in exasperation. Both looked at him in anticipation of what he was about to say or reply back.
"I do like him in some way, but not so much that I need to talk about him every day you know." He admitted it was not like that he hated the hero. Far from it in fact, but despite all of it he still did not understand nor fully grasp why the world raved about him so much that everybody he knew, even his parents gush about him to the high heavens.
"But he's All Might! Greatest hero ever! Even the world acknowledges it!"
"Yeah… so?" he countered as the two looked at him in a confused and estranged manner.
The other boy then leaned his face towards him.
"Do you hate heroes Izumi?" they asked.
He looked at him, contemplating what to say, but inwardly he knew that he didn't.
"I don't. Why would you even ask that?"
"Because you're always angry or frowning whenever anybody talks about heroes."
"Even villain fights too!" the other boy added.
He looked at the two and took a deep breath.
"I'm not mad. Just annoyed. I don't really get it, I don't get why it's so popular to talk about things like that and why everyone is so happy and thrilled about it."
"Because it's the heroes! Heroes are cool! They got strong quirks, they fight for justice, t-they uh, they're popular and they got movies, shows and-
"I know what they are. I see it every day you know?" he said to make the other boy stop.
"Then why don't you like them as much as everybody else?"
The question made him pause for a moment as he stared at the two.
"I… I don't actually know. Maybe because… I think they're stupid?"
"Stupid?"
He turned towards the window, seeing the rays of the sun high up in the noon as memories allowed him to reminisce. "It's just stupid you know, they're just fighting every day, getting people hurt, and once the heroes put another villain in jail, it happens again. It's uninteresting."
The two looked at him almost in an incredulous way.
"But they're heroes! That's what they're supposed to do. They beat the bad guys."
And what happens then? He told himself internally, not wanting to argue further.
"You're so weird Izumi… but if you said you don't hate the heroes, surely you like a hero at least right?"
He felt a small smile appear finally on his face. "I do!"
"Who is it then?"
"The Water Hose Duo!"
He could still hear their laughter.
Scoffing he waddled his legs as he sat on the bench. The school day had finished and like many of his classmates, they were waiting to be picked up by their parents. Some would ride the bus home, but in his case, his mom and dad always picked him up.
Sometimes it was even his aunt when they were busy.
Regardless, he patiently waited as his legs dangled and swung underneath the bench.
He didn't particularly like the ending of the conversation back in lunch, but he was proud to name his parents as his favorite heroes. The only heroes he admires if he was being honest.
Not even All Might compared.
Nobody did, nobody came close because at the very least his mom and dad helped people in a conventional sense. The others were just too busy punching each other…
Or hurting each other, ultimately hurting other people too.
Even All Might.
Nobody would think the same though. They were all too busy loving the other heroes so much to the point that even his classmates called his mom and dad 'lame'.
They were not lame. They were just fools.
He could not blame them for being fools. They worshipped their idols too much.
"Hm."
Eventually, the swinging of his feet began to tire his legs.
He pondered on what his dad said earlier that day and thought about it. He never wanted to grow up as a hero, nor a hero in any shape or form of that matter, but if his mom and dad could help people even in ways that did not involve fighting…
Perhaps it was worth it?
"Hm." he hummed again, not noticing as the hour passed by. The sun was dipping closer to the horizon, and the once-blue sky was now turning into a pale warm color as nighttime loomed forward soon.
As time passed, he now started to notice that it was taking a bit too long for his mom and dad to arrive. He was not impatient compare to other kids, but a bit of worry was now starting to edge on his mind as he wondered what could have been the reason for the delay.
That small edge proliferated as an hour after that the sun was already close to disappearing against the buildings in front of him. Even the school behind him was now at its last few students and teachers that were now going home.
It was late.
And he was now fidgeting in place due to worry and confusion.
It did not last however as he saw the familiar sound and look of her aunt's car. Quickly as it arrived, he saw her aunt get out of the car and stood in front of him.
Eyes red. Cheeks wet.
Voice… weak.
He was confused as her gaze looked down on him. Without any other words, her aunt suddenly took him into her arms in a tight embrace. She was crying.
"I'm sorry Kota… I-I'm sorry."
A blank stare now perpetually graced his face.
The cold chill of the air made it so that his shock, and the seemingly unblinking eyes he had focused on what was before him, had turned the atmosphere so dense and hollow that it felt like he was already an unmoving statue.
The boy felt the slight twitches of the hand he was clinging to move for a bit as his deadpan stare continued to perpetuate on that part of the room.
Any voice may it be from his aunt or of the doctors involved around them was heavily filtered away thankfully by his frail, conscious mind. Any attempt at communication, or even sound, was blocked and shrouded away as the sorrow doubled down on his fragile heart.
Even as he felt the arms and body of his aunt take him into her embrace, his position and gaze did not waver nor move. However, the longer he continued to stare, the wetter his eyes felt, and the weaker the foundations of any built-up strength he had left started to crumble.
Questions from the void of his current headspace started to creep into the sidelines.
Shock turned into denial…
And denial eventually transitioned to anguish.
"…"
He felt his hands shake. His fingers squeeze aimlessly upon the warm surfaces of his aunt's embrace. The yearning for what was lost crept in, invasive as it was.
Eventually, the boy did break into a sob. Not the kind that had him screaming nor wailing in pain, but the kind that emanated betrayal and numbness, unlike anything he had ever felt.
The sight before him was now seared into his memory, forevermore.
To someone else, they would have been unrecognizable under those white, tainted sheets.
But to the boy, to Kota, the emotions deep within him only grew worse when he recognized the faces and the now cold, lifeless hands of the man he held on to…
And believed in earlier that day.
His heart finally dropped after seeing their faces, or what was left of them at least as he felt his aunt cling to him harder than before.
Kota Izumi continued to sob in silence within his aunt's arms, even as the coroners and doctors tried asking them to respectfully leave the premises so that they could prepare the bodies.
But none of them dared to, for Eraserhead, the Pro Hero who was the last man on the scene to find the duo in their state had urged them not to.
"Can I… can I get you something sweetie?" the forced smile of his aunt was evident as she said those words. He could not face her, he was not sure if he could.
The hero known as Mandalay quickly understood that there was no use.
She bit her lip as she looked at her nephew, both of them now in the sad, empty home of his cousin, still unsure of what to do, now knowing that she was the last member of the family that Kota had any connection to.
Standing there at the boy's door as she looked at Kota laying on his bed under the covers just utterly crushed her heart and soul to no avail.
The boy had lost everything.
Even with the knowledge and pain of the death of his cousin still racking her mind, she knew how much more difficult it is for Kota. Looking at her nephew now, further cemented that thought.
But he needed time for himself and forcing herself on him even for just an embrace might make his current emotional turmoil worse.
Shaking her head with a sigh, she decided to give him a few hours alone at least, just enough for him to calm down, sleep, and rest. She would need to watch him of course, knowing that this was the most emotionally vulnerable a child like him had ever experienced in their whole life.
Walking away, she did not notice that while Kota had remained stiff and unresponsive while he stared into nothing, he was actually paying attention to how his aunt looked and emotionally reacted towards him.
Suffice it to say, he cared none for it, yet he had no outward hatred towards her.
No, this was different.
He could not put it into words, but… he recalled his father's words earlier that day. He recalled it so clearly and vividly, down to the smallest detail.
And those words stuck to him even now, but not in a positive light.
His fists clench up. Anger and sadness override him completely as tears begin to wet his cheeks.
He hated them.
He cursed them with all the heart he could muster.
The loathing, the sheer weight of it all culminated in his chest like wildfire, so much so that he pressed both his arms to his chest, hugging them tightly.
It was heavy. It was painful.
That rise of emotion eventually subsided and the tears once again worsened from the despair and now depression.
It was too much. Far too much for the little boy's heart to take.
Yet even as he sank into his bed, what was present in his mind stuck to him permanently.
The heroes, the villains.
All of them.
His meager heart could not muster the extremely hateful words that ebbed within.
But it lingered…
It stuck.
And as the darkness around the boy coiled into the ever-present void, he saw stars...
Shapes of uncertain things swirling into the great expanse. They screamed, they called, and they answered as if agitated or excited. A language that a small boy could not understand was exchanged between them.
The tides of unyielding, unknown information passed around him, circling like a predator closing in on its prey, the colorful chaos coalesced and slowly abated.
Everything returned to the cold, silent void as the young boy's breath normalized.
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Kota's eyes opened.
The bits of sunlight coming through the blinds of his window made him blink a few times as he sat up.
Nothing seemed out of place. It was just the usual quiet of the morning as he could hear some chirping of the birds outside.
Quick as he tried to muster himself, he got to his feet on the floor and started to walk towards the slightly opened doorway of his room. Immediately he noticed that everything was too eerily quiet, then memory served to be a bad mistress as it flooded his head with the events of yesterday.
He stopped in place, feeling as if his legs were jelly but he managed to center himself enough as his hand rested on the closest wall by his right.
Wiping his eyes, he finally noticed that there was something there near where his hand had rested on the wall. A framed picture. He stared at it for a few seconds until another chirp from the birds outside returned him back to the present.
Walking again down the hallway and deeper into his home, despite the sadness of his current state, he started to question why his aunt was not there.
Why the house was too quiet.
He sat on the chair he usually used for breakfast and looked around. Not many things caught his eye until he saw that the clock hung by the wall near the refrigerator was not ticking, nor was it moving.
Squinting his eyes, he looked at it and felt confused.
He always complained about the clock being far too noisy when it signaled the important hours of the day by playing an All Might tune, so to see it silent and unmoving was a bit odd.
He did not mind it however as he left the chair and walked around the house again.
When he arrived at the living room, his eyes quickly noticed again that the large clock near their television was also dead and frozen in place. He tried to reach the switch for the lights in the room to also find it non-operational.
With a frown, he started to question what was going on…
Then he heard the chirping of birds again. Louder this time.
He looked at the doorway where their front porch was, slowly walking towards it, he reached for the knob and turned it open. The first thing he noticed when he nudged the door open was the sudden onset of a breeze entering the house.
He opened it again and heard the chirping of birds again.
It became louder once more.
Stepping onto their porch, all the emotion and feeling of his entire form suddenly screeched to a halt. Another breeze passed him by as he stepped forward. The birds chirping in the background became more pronounced.
Moving another step closer his eyes started to take in what he was seeing.
First, there was the smell. A very familiar smell that he recalled very intimately when he saw his parents lifeless on a cold steel table.
SLOSH!
He did not even notice that his feet had been submerged by a swath of water, stretching as far as his eyes could see. The very horrid smell was very prevalent as birds continued to chirp.
Horror was present on his face as his hands started to shake.
It was just unending, this image before him. The birds were everywhere.
The smell was everywhere.
Water, shallow as it was stretched everywhere.
He was now whimpering by steadily taking a few steps back, only to fall when something made him trip. A small splash made him fall on his backside.
He then saw what tripped him.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he screamed in terror as he stood up and ran back to his porch.
A bird flew down on the "object" that he tripped from and started to peck on it, ripping off pieces of its flesh as Kota continued to inhale in hurried, scared, and shallow breaths.
The prevalent smell made him sick while he covered his ears, trying to stop the sound of the birds from entering his hearing.
He cried, wishing for his parents.
Wishing for them to save him from the nightmare…
Until he noticed in the middle of his wails that an enormous shadow was cast on his entire form.
He looked up towards the sky.
The sun was being blocked by something.
An Angel.